One Hundred Words

Insects swarm round flowers like planes circling their port. My garden’s calming waves break over me. I check plants for growth, sprouting forth as energy collecting fibrous limbs. Nutrients well up from soil, building blocks recombining to write out preplanned DNA codes. Sounds simple. It’s mysterious how green plays devious tricks on one’s stressed systems. If only human bodies could find a flawless, unencumbered existence enjoyed by flora. Wind bends strands under the sun. Spiders spin webs in darkened corners of tree, rock, bush and fence. Flies entombed. Spring has brought its mood postage paid via our sun’s brilliant rays.